Ascension of the Wings
by NindroidDragonlord
Summary: Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other. Rated M for language and sexual themes.
1. The Gift

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.

Set after OotP

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

I own only the plot and the unique ideas attached to it.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Gift

* * *

"Happy birthday, Harry," the raven-haired teen murmured to himself as he watched the clock on his bedside table slowly wind down to midnight. Another year passed with only the letters from his friends reaffirming the fact that he did actually exist between school years. The Dursleys, as always, had completely ignored the fact that Harry would soon be sixteen. So Harry lay on his stomach, drowsily watching the timepiece tick away the minutes. Hedwig hooted softly, as if to wish Harry happy birthday. The-boy-who-was-almost-sixteen smiled sleepily against his pillow.

It was a real smile, something that Harry hadn't been able to do much since the recent death of Sirius. That coupled with the experience of summer at the Dursley's was reason enough to explain Harry's mopey situation. He had been in a tired, grieving state most of the break, performing the odd duties the Dursley's assigned him with only half a mind. It was hard, going from no family, to a little family, back to no family at all again. Sometimes Harry wished he could grow up faster, so he could start a family of his own that he could keep forever.

Tap tap tap.

Harry's smile turned into a frown at the sharp rapping of something at the window.

Tap tap tap.

The teen climbed out of bed and walked the two paces to the window, but there was nothing there to indicate where the sound had come from. No owl, no friends in flying cars, nothing. Hedwig hooted quietly again from her cage. Harry, always the impulsive Gryffindor, opened the window anyways. As soon as his elbows had extended all the way up in pushing up the dirty pane, a streak of orange _woooshed_ into the room. Harry jumped back in shock and the window fell closed behind him as the teen turned around and peered into his room. There, illuminated by the light of the full moon outside, perched a phoenix on the back of Harry's desk chair.

Harry squinted at the bird. "Fawkes?"

The brilliant orange plumage ruffled gently, and Fawkes' head came into view. The bird dipped its head in response to Harry.

"Did Dumbledore send you?" The phoenix shook its head no.

Harry stood in the middle of his room, puzzled as to the sudden appearance of Fawkes, who had apparently come without a prompting by the headmaster. Were his birthday and the arrival of the phoenix a coincidence? He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the orange-hued avian as it flapped over to cling to Harry's knee. With his beak Fawkes motioned for Harry to look over. The red digital numbers on the clock changed from 11:59 to 12:00. A brilliant explosion of yellow-orange light erupted in front of Harry's eyes, before the blackness of unconsciousness took him under.


	2. Of A Phoenix

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.

Set after OotP

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

I own only the plot and the unique ideas attached to it.

* * *

Chapter 2: Of A Phoenix

* * *

"WAKE UP, YOU LAZY ARSE!" Uncle Vernon yelled, pounding on the door to Harry's tiny room. Without waiting for a response, the overweight man barged inside, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. The entire room was coated in a thick layer of ash, and the area where the bed had been was now a charred section on the floor. Vernon stood, gaping in confusion at the room. This was all the boy's fault, surely. His kind were dangerous, and the state of this room reaffirmed his belief in this fact. He humphed in contempt. As soon as he got his hands on that boy…

Vernon's gaze landed on a bright pile of feathers in the corner of the room. He waddled over and prodded the mass with the toe of his boot. The mass of feathers quivered, and the distinctly recognizable face of Harry emerged and blinked at the pudgy man standing over him.

"Wha..?" Harry mumbled, eyes bleary with fatigue and pain. Vernon gasped and quickly shuffled backwards away from the feathered boy.

"You're… feathers…sorcery…" Uncle Vernon sputtered. Then he turned and ran from the room, calling for Petunia and Dudley to get in the car.

Harry got weakly to feet. What had happened last night? He remembered Fawkes strange visit, and then the clock turning to midnight, then…nothing. Harry surveyed the disaster of a room he now occupied. He sneezed as the thick grey ash stirred around him from his movements. A streak of orange appeared in his peripheral vision. Harry turned his head violently over his shoulder only to shriek in surprise at the sight of brightly colored wings attached to his upper back. Harry looked straight ahead again and started to panic. What had his sixteenth birthday brought him?

Without thinking, Harry rushed to the bathroom down the hall and proceeded to stare at the reflection of himself for the next ten minutes. The first thing he noticed was his eyes. Glowing amber eyes gazed back at him, flecks of gold and red enhancing the irises. Next were the wings. Harry turned around and tried to crane his head to see them in the mirror. They were long and graceful, each and every feather a different hue of red, orange, and yellow. They peaked a fraction of an inch above his shoulders and came down to the middle of his calves. Harry immediately wanted to go outside and try his hand at flying, damn the consequences of anyone seeing him like this. It was then that the teen realized he was stark naked.

 _The ashes_ , he thought. There must have been a fire. Fawkes. The pieces started to click together. _Am I a phoenix_? Harry wondered to himself. Turning to retreat from the bathroom, Harry clumsily banged his wings against the doorframe. A loud squawking sound filled the hallway as Harry recognized slight pain was coming from his new appendages. Had he made that sound? Trying to replicate the noise, the raven-haired boy opened his mouth and a shrill bird cry came out again. Harry closed his mouth shut with a snap, shuddering at the strangeness of it all.

He returned to his ash-covered room and pulled his school trunk out of the cramped closet. He sighed in relief as he remembered it was imbued with protection charms and had suffered no damage from the previous night. Pulling on some jeans and wrapping the rest of himself in his Hogwarts robe, Harry made his way over to Hedwig. With the Dursleys' run off at the sight of Harry, he could now send his owl out without fear of the consequences.

 _Dear Dumbledore,_

 _Last night Fawkes paid me a visit around midnight. Something strange happened, and I have been physically changed._

Harry bit at the end of his quill. He knew the Ministry liked to read owls, and if this one was intercepted, he didn't want them after him again. Not after what happened in the Department of Mysteries. He shrugged. The old man would just have to deal with his vagueness.

 _I am alright, but I would like to know what has happened. Contact me soon._

 _HJP_

Harry tied the note to Hedwig's leg and opened the window for her. Watching her fly away awoke a sudden urge to jump out the window and fly the letter himself, but he restrained. Stepping away from the window, Harry made his way downstairs to relieve the Dursley's of some of their food. He was famished, probably from the transformation last night. He stepped down a single stair…and promptly tumbled down the rest of the flight. Harry groaned; he lay in a jumbled heap in the entryway, robe gone from his torso and wings squashed beneath him. He shook his head and fumbled around a bit on the floor before finally regaining his feet and going to the kitchen.

* * *

An entire sandwich and most of the Dudley's chocolate milk jug had already been devoured when the doorbell rang. Harry answered the door to Dumbledore, realizing he had forgotten to put his robe back on when the headmaster frowned slightly at him. Then there was a half-concealed gasp as Dumbledore saw Harry's eyes. The teen quickly ushered him in and shut the door behind him.

"Harry, my boy, what's happened?" Harry shrugged, and the top of his wings came into view with the motion. Dumbledore's keen eyes noticed. "What have you got on your back?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't know what the elder would say once he recognized the wings attached to Harry's back. Then he made up his mind and slowly turned around to show the headmaster. He wanted answers; that's why he had sent the owl. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, the heat of Dumbledore's stare making his wings quiver.

Harry turned back around to meet the anxious headmaster's eyes. "You said Fawkes visited you last night?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. "Around midnight." The ageing old man motioned for Harry to join him at the kitchen table. The teen sat down slowly, arranging his wings around him by hand.

"Tell me everything you remember." And Harry did, mentioning the flash of light, showing him the ashes covering his room, and how Vernon had fled at the sight of him. At last Dumbledore gave a long-suffering sigh. "By all appearances, it seems you have turned into a partial phoenix, Harry." The teen nodded in confirmation. "I've no idea how or why this has happened, but it has, and we must deal with the reciprocation of that now. Gather your things, Harry, you may stay the duration of the break at Hogwarts."

The raven-haired boy shot out of his chair in joy and ran upstairs to gather his things. _No more Dursley's for the rest of the summer_ , he thought in glee. In mere minutes, Harry was downstairs again, Hedwig's cage sitting on his trunk and robe once again wrapped around himself. Dumbledore vanished Harry's things with a flick of his wand and turned to face the sixth-year. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir," the half-phoenix said, placing his hand on Dumbledore's offered arm. The two Apparated to Hogwarts with a loud _pop_.


	3. Combined with the Dark

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

I own only the plot and the unique ideas attached to it.

WhoCanRemember - I also love Harry's eyes, but I needed something else besides the wings to make Harry more phoenix-like. A sort of solution to the eye-color thing will happen in chapter 4.

* * *

Chapter 3: Combined with the Dark

* * *

 _June 4, several weeks earlier_

Narcissa Malfoy paced back and forth in front of the gigantic fireplace in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. Her son, Draco, lounged easily in a chair nearby, reading a book. He looked up at her and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I do wish you'd stop your pacing, mother." The blonde shook his head at her and went back to reading his book.

Narcissa stopped walking and turned to look at her son, a worrisome look gracing her otherwise masked features. "I'm worried about you Draco. The changes happening to you tonight will not be pleasant." A small crease appeared on her forehead. "With your father out of town, there will be no one with first-hand experience to guide you through the process."

"I'll be fine, Mother," Draco sighed, closing the book and resting it on his knee. He got up and walked towards his mother, taking one of her hands in both of his. "I am a Malfoy, after all." She smiled weakly at this and released her hand from her son's grasp. She looked into the swirling silver irises of Draco's eyes and knew he was telling the truth.

"If that is all, I should go and prepare. Midnight is only a few hours away." Narcissa nodded to him absently.

"In only a few hours…" she whispered to herself. The door to the drawing room opened and closed with a gentle click.

* * *

Draco stood in the middle of his spacious bedroom, turning slowly on his heel to cast different spells on the walls of his room. Silencing spells, calming charms, temperature regulating spells, any and every spell he thought he would need Draco layered onto the soft blue wallpaper. His massive bed had been cushioned with more pillows and blankets than normal, curtsey of the house elves. He doused the fire in its grate with a slash of his wand. He would be the most dangerous thing tonight; no need to have an active fire added to the list.

The blond gave a pleased nod at his room, before walking over to his closet and exchanging his outfit for a simple grey silk robe. ' _Tonight I become a true Malfoy_ ,' the teen thought to himself giddily. He flopped onto the mound of pillows and cushions on his bed and opened the book he had been reading earlier. It was the Malfoy genealogy, handed down and added to with each new generation. Draco flipped to the middle of the book, which listed all the Malfoy's who had come into their inheritance. The line started 16 generations ago, and was passed down to the next male heir of the family. In a little under an hour Draco's name would appear under his father's, and the transformation would begin.

He closed the book and laid it on his bedside table. Yes, the process of becoming a _ would undoubtedly be long and painful, but the added power it would give him both physically and magically were well worth the toil. Draco closed his eyes, but could not fall asleep but for the excitement coursing through his veins.

* * *

A/N: Draco's inheritance is blanked for added mystery. You will find out when Harry finds out.


	4. Leads to Power

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.

Set after OotP

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Leads to Power**

* * *

"Hello, Madame Pomfrey. I'm sorry to trouble you, but I'd like you to have a look at Harry here."

Harry's head swam in nausea after the sudden rush of Apparating. He heard Dumbledore's voice, and when he looked up from clutching his stomach he saw the school nurse bustling towards him. She grabbed his arm and hauled him over to a bed, ordering him to sit while she grabbed some things from her office.

The raven-haired teen was not recovering well. Usually after Apparating there would be a moment of feeling ill, but it went always went away quickly. Harry's head was still pounding and his wings ached for some reason. He had a gut feeling that phoenixes were not supposed to be transported like that. Pomfrey returned with a length of parchment in one hand and her wand in the other. She frowned upon seeing Harry.

"Still feeling sick from the travel?" She asked. Harry could only nod. Her frown increased and she waved her wand over Harry, muttering a spell as she did so. Words and numbers appeared on the parchment as she cast, the whole ordeal only taking a minute. Then she stepped away from the teen and read the results aloud.

"Harry James Potter, standing 5 feet 4 and ½ inches, weighing…" Here she stopped and squinted at the sheet. "This can't be right. 53 pounds?" She brought out her wand again to redo the spell, but Dumbledore interrupted her.

"Please continue, Poppy."

She looked hesitant, but nodded. "Age 16 as of yesterday. Happy birthday, dear." She glanced up at him for a second. "Eye color: Amber. And you have protrusions on your back as a result of a magical outburst that occurred exactly 14 hours ago." Pomfrey looked between the headmaster and the boy on the bed. "What is this?" she demanded.

Dumbledore gave a long-suffering sigh. "Show her, Harry." Pomfrey watched with much curiosity as Harry slipped off the bed and shrugged off his robe, turning around to display his plumage for the nurse. Pomfrey inhaled sharply. Then she quickly scanned the rest of the report, eyes coming to rest at a sentence at the bottom of the page.

"Blood status: Phoenix and mostly pure-blood. Phoenix?" She repeated the last part quietly, her eyes darting over the wings twitching on Harry's back.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "It appears so, what with the information Harry has given me." He relayed what the teen had told him.

Harry turned back around and listened to the two adults conversing. He noted that he should have felt colder, what with no shirt on and the infirmary always kept colder than the rest of the school, but he wasn't. He actually realized that he felt warmer than he had ever felt before, but it wasn't at all uncomfortable. "What's my temperature?" he blurted out.

Pomfrey's eyes narrowed at him and she looked back at the parchment she still held. Then her eyes widened again. "105 degrees. Much too warm for any normal wizard to function at, but you're not quite so normal now, are you?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Phoenixes have fire properties, Harry. That will probably be your normal body temperature from now on." He paused. "I wonder…"

"What is it, Headmaster?" Harry was genuinely curious to see what else the phoenix in him had done.

Dumbledore settled comfortably into a chair he had conjured at the foot of the bed before beginning to speak. His eyes twinkled with their usual merry light. "You know that phoenixes are born from the ashes that they create when they burn up at the end of a life cycle? Well, I was wondering if something like that might happen to you." Here Dumbledore looked grave. "Phoenixes are immortal, Harry. If something should happen to you, you will either die, or be born again like a phoenix."

Harry gasped and sat down hard on the bed. He might be immortal? How could that even be possible? He wasn't a true phoenix anyway; he just had the eyes and the wings. And the temperature. And the…

"So what about my weight?" he interjected again. "What does that mean?"

Pomfrey shrugged. "My best guess is that because you are part avian, your body had adapted to better be able to fly. May I do an in-depth analysis to see if that's true?" Harry nodded. The nurse performed a similar spell to the one she had done before, except that this one was several minutes longer and the results filled two feet of parchment.

"Ah," she said, looking over the document. "You have somehow grown an extra lung, which now rests behind your normal two, and all of your bones have become completely hollow. Your eyesight has drastically sharpened, so much so that you may not even need those glasses anymore." Harry took off his glasses and looked around, realizing that indeed, he didn't need the dreadful spectacles anymore. She continued. "You also have special glands that will keep your feathers in their proper condition, as well as heightened reflex reaction time."

Harry looked down at his hands in amazement. So much had changed in and around him, and he had never felt better. Until he realized that he would now be even more of a freak than he had been.

Dumbledore noticed the teen's sudden shift from awe to down-cast. "What is it, my boy?"

The avian wizard swallowed and kept his eyes fixed on the cold tile of the infirmary. "Everyone is going to think I'm more of a freak now. No one else has bright wings the color of fire and eyes that practically glow. What will Ron and Hermione think?" He mumbled the last bit to the floor, concerned that he would lose the little friendship he actually had in this world to his new-found appearance.

"I'm afraid I can't conceal the wings, but they should be unnoticeable as long as you wear your robe or a long cloak over them. As for your eyes, I can cast a spell that will turn them back to their green, but it will wear off every few days. And if your friends find out and they dislike you for what you've become, maybe they aren't real friends anyway."

Harry smiled at Pomfrey's speech. "Yes, please change my eyes. And I'll keep your words in mind," he promised. In a second Pomfrey had her wand out and was speaking the simple charm to change Harry's irises to their usual vibrant green.

"I think that will be all, Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "Come with me, Harry; there's something I want to show you."

Harry said his thanks to Madame Pomfrey before slipping his robe back on and following Dumbledore out of the infirmary. He smiled as he walked down the familiar corridors and past the many statues and portraits lining the halls. After a while they arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, the two gargoyles on either side separating to admit headmaster and student. Once they were both comfortably seated and Harry had been offered the complementary lemon drop, Dumbledore began to speak.

"You may not know this, Harry, but the Potter's are an extremely powerful wizarding family. Their line goes back quite far, as most pure-blood families do. It really doesn't surprise me that a magical event like this has happened to you. This may be an inheritance that has happened before in your line; or maybe not. I'm inclined to believe that this is an isolated event - that whatever happened last night doesn't really have a correlation with your blood status. From what it looks like, Fawkes gave some of his powers to you, and whenever he shows up again and we'll try and get some answers from him.

"Harry, you must understand that this is not a normal happening. From what I remember of my work with phoenixes, the hybrid of a wizard and a Phoenix has only happened a handful of times throughout wizarding history. The last recorded instance of a Phoenix wizard was over 1000 years ago; a powerful Viking chieftain who called himself Nikolai the Scorcher."

Dumbledore watched Harry carefully as he took in this new information. The boy's wings shifted around constantly, even though he was trying to sit still. He'd have to work on that if he wanted to keep a low profile. The age-old wizard continued.

"Because species like you are so few and far between, I worry that if word got out the press would become an almost unbearable nuisance to you, even more so than it already is. You must promise me Harry," and here the headmaster looked unusually stern, "that you will try your hardest to conceal the Phoenix side of you from everyone, even your friends if you must."

Harry looked down at the floor, his shoulders slouched as if the weight of his burden had suddenly become too much. He already knew what his answer would be.

"Yes sir."


	5. Only Equaled by The Mark

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.

Set after OotP

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

I don't own Harry Potter, just this plot.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Only Equaled by The Mark**

* * *

 _June 5_ _th_ _, Midnight_

A single high-pitched scream tore from Draco's throat. His head whipped from side to side as his body convulsed in an unnatural manner. Sweat dripped along the side of his brow, pooling against the wrinkled silk of his pillowcase. Silvery gray eyes shone in pain and agony, their depth filled to the brim with the need for relief. Long, slender fingers grasped at pillows and sheets, seeking for something to hold onto, something to anchor to in the swimming world of pain. Another scream erupted from the teen's throat, and tears fell from his eyes.

But alas, the world heard nothing, and the night was as silent as the grave.

* * *

 _July 31_ _st_ _, Midnight_

Draco started in his chair, where he had fallen asleep reading a book by the fire. His heart was pounding unnaturally fast or someone who had been peacefully dreaming. He looked around the room, searching for danger, any reason he had been awoken from his sleep in that manner. His senses had sharpened drastically, something that didn't happen unless Draco commanded his inheritance to do so. He looked down at his hands, noticing that his claws had come out. How unusual.

He felt all sorts of strange inside, like his stomach was pretending to be a fish, flopping around in his insides. It didn't hurt, it just felt odd.

Draco walked down to his father's study, where he knew the man would still be, even at this time of night. He knocked softly on the mahogany wood and waited until he heard his father's voice call out, "Enter."

The elder Malfoy looked up from his quill and parchment to see his son standing uncomfortably in the middle of the study. Frown lines appeared on the man's forehead as he looked at his son. "Why are you in your form, Draco?"

The teen glanced over his shoulder to see that his wings had come out. He hadn't even noticed. Sighing, he retracted them as close to his body as he could. "I woke up a few minutes ago," Draco began, voice even. "And my heart was beating wildly. I started to come into form, without any concentration or willpower. My insides feel peculiar, not in a painful manner, just rather strange. I'm wondering if you know what this could be."

Lucius Malfoy sat back in his chair and smiled. "I think I have an idea of what this is, I just hadn't expected it to come so soon." Draco looked at him rather impatiently.

"Your mate has awoken, Draco. I remember the same thing happening to me when your mother came into her inheritance, even though I didn't know it was her at the time. I remember the same feeling in the pit of my stomach, just as you described."

It was Draco's turn to frown this time. "My mate will be another hybrid, like me?" he asked.

"Yes. She will likely not be a powerful demi-wizard like you. Your mother only has a trace of wood nymph in her veins, but that inheritance still awoke in her." Lucius looked at his son sternly. "No matter the magic they possess nor the inheritance they have gained, you will treat your mate with respect. They will bring about the future of the Malfoy line."

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at his father. Everyone with an inheritance usually had a mate assigned to them by destiny, or fate, whatever you believed in. Most people were extremely happy with their chosen soulmate, with very few exceptions. A bonded couple experienced the most pure love and lived joyful lives, for they had found their other halves. It was borderline ridiculous that his father thought Draco would mistreat his mate or give her anything less than the best of life's riches. She would bear him beautiful children, and he would give her anything she desired. Draco knew and understood this.

"Of course, Father." The elder Malfoy nodded and went back to his work. Draco exited the room and went back to his bedroom, sitting in the same chair by the slowly dying fire. His mate had been awoken; now he had to find her.


	6. When the Two Creatures

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.

Set after OotP

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

I don't own Harry Potter, just this plot.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: When the Two Creatures**

* * *

It was the eve before the start of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. He had been sleeping in the Gryffindor tower alone for the past few weeks, wandering the grounds by day and eating in the Great Hall at meal times. Most of the time he went down to help Hagrid, and occasionally went to the greenhouses to offer his hands for Professor Sprout. Professor McGonagall had taken him down to Hogsmeade about a week ago for his school supplies, as well as to purchase some long cloaks for him to wear outside of school. Harry happily selected a half dozen cloaks ranging in color from deep red to a silky silver. The navy blue one was currently draped over Harry's shoulders as he paced back in forth in the dormitory.

It had been hard to write the letter to Ron and Hermione telling them that he wouldn't be staying at the Burrow for the last few weeks of summer. His heart had ached as he scrawled his excuses across the parchment, memories of past summers spent with his friends flashing through his mind. He wasn't ready for them, not then. The past few weeks had been full of self – discovery, mostly of his new form. Harry smiled as he remembered the first time he had actually flown with his own wings.

He had been lying in bed, tossing and turning in a fruitless attempt at sleep. The room had seemed too cramped, the air too stuffy. Harry had gotten out of bed, clothed in just his pajama bottoms, and gone over to the window. Throwing it open, Harry breathed in the cool summer air and relished the feeling of it calming his over-heightened senses. A windy gust suddenly blew through the room, lifting Harry's wings from his back. Stretching them out a little, Harry grasped the edge of the windowsill and looked out deep into the night. The wind seemed to be calling him, beckoning him to come out and play. As if in a dream, Harry pushed the window all the way up and crouched on the sill, hands pressed against the frame to keep him from falling out. His wings unfolded completely and quivered gently in the breeze. Closing his eyes, Harry ducked his head and let himself fall out the window. The bitter cold air of the fall forced his eyes back open only to see the ground happening a lot faster than he had thought it would. Harry tried to relax, to let his wings come out and catch the wind on their own accord. After several more stories of freefall, Harry hit the right angle and the brilliant orange phoenix wings turned the fall into a peaceful glide. A small smile gradually turned into a blinding show of teeth as the teen soared through the night sky, the light of the summer moon illuminating the grounds of Hogwarts below.

Now Harry would go out flying every night, if only to stretch his wings and feel the sharp tang of the wind on his face. Flying on a broom had been a thrilling experience as an eleven year old boy, but flying as an avian was a hundred times better. He had gotten used to the chill, which wasn't hard with his unusually hot core, and preferred only wearing a cloak and pants when he could get away with it. Harry was dreading trying to make the school uniform work with his wings and body temperature.

And so it was that Harry kept pacing back and forth on the floor in front of his bed in the Gryffindor tower, anxious and overheating thinking about school the coming day. True, the students would not arrive until evening, but this was the last day that Harry could truly be free and do as he like. For the most part, the professors had let him be, as Dumbledore had explained his predicament the day after his arrival. McGonagall had quickly asked to see his wings and question him all about the experience.

The raven-haired teen sighed and stopped pacing in front of the door to the dorm. He had to go see Dumbledore anyway, to change his eye color back before the start of term. The magic had worn off about a week and a half ago, but since everyone here knew his secret, he had let his eye color remain. Harry snorted in laughter as he remembered Hagrid's reaction to his appearance. ("Blimey 'Arry, yer a phoenix?")

Exiting the common room, he heard the portrait of the Fat Lady sigh as he made his way towards Dumbledore's office. Feeling mischievous, he shrugged off his cloak and folded it up in his arms, then started off in a run down the hall. Spotting a staircase in the middle of a transition, Harry ran towards it and then down the half flight of stairs, launching himself off and unfurling his wings. He laughed as he gave a few powerful flaps of his wings and sailed gracefully towards the gargoyles positioned outside the Headmaster's office.

"Lemon-y Lemon Drops." The gargoyles shifted to admit the teen, who clasped the cloak around himself again. It wouldn't be the first time Harry had shown up underdressed.

Even though it was near midnight, he knew the aging wizard would still be up. "Come in, Harry," Dumbledore called before he even had a chance to raise his hand and knock on the door. Harry pushed his way inside. The warlock sat at his desk, bent over several old tomes. The perch behind him for Fawkes was still empty, as it had been since he arrived. Most of the portraits hanging on the walls were sleeping, but the few who were awake stared at Harry's amber eyes suspiciously. Harry ignored them.

"Sir, could you change my eyes back?" The hybrid wizard asked, standing behind one of the chairs in front of the great mahogany desk. Dumbledore continued reading and tapping pages with his wand for several more moments. Then he spoke without looking up.

"Phoenixes are incredibly powerful magical creatures, you know." Harry attempted to swallow the long-suffering sigh threatening to break from his lungs.

"Yes, I am aware, sir."

"You may not realize it, or haven't noticed, that your magical capacity for, well, magic, has significantly increased. The level of magic you can perform is most definitely past that of the seventh years." The greying man looked up at Harry. "Why don't you give the spell a go on your own?"

Harry stood awkwardly in front of the headmaster. "I…didn't bring my wand."

"No matter. Fawkes doesn't have a wand. Now the spell is 'Iris transuerso'."

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He concentrated for a moment, then said in a clear voice, "Iris transuero." He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the headmaster, that familiar twinkle looking back at him. "Did it work?"

"See for yourself." Holding back yet another exasperated sigh, Harry went over to the mantle where a small square mirror sat. Stepping into the line of sight of the reflective object, Harry gasped in surprise. Soft blue eyes stared back at him. Harry whipped around to face the Headmaster.

"I don't have blue eyes!"

Dumbledore chuckled in his extremely annoying way of chuckling at things that aren't funny. "No, but you once did. Almost all babies have blue eyes when they are born, as you did when I found you. Try to be more specific on your eye color choice. Focus on the image of you with green eyes."

Harry frowned and faced the mirror again, unnerved by the many different eye colors he had had recently. He looked straight at himself this time and imagined himself with the brilliant emerald irises he had looked upon everyday up until his change. Repeating the spell, the teen was relieved to see his eyes darken and become green once more. He thanked the old wizard and retreated back to the tower for some much needed sleep.

* * *

"I hope Harry hasn't been too lonely, staying at Hogwarts all by himself." Hermione looked out the train window at the landscape flashing by, staring but not seeing.

"He's not all by himself," Ron commented, finishing off a chocolate frog. "He's got Dumbledore, and McGonagall, and ya know, Hagrid and stuff."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's inarticulateness. "He's always come to stay at the Burrow. I wonder what training Dumbledore had in mind for Harry that he needed to stay there _all summer_."

Ron shrugged and reached into his pocket for more sweets.

* * *

Harry met up with Hagrid at the front gates early in the evening the next day. The half-giant had invited the half-phoenix to accompany him on the walk to the train platform where the students were due to arrive in a little while. Harry had whole-heartedly agreed.

Getting himself into the school shirt and sweater proved to be one of the trickiest things Harry had ever done. And that was saying something, given all that had happened last year during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry had actually pulled a Hermione and gone to the library to look for a spell that could somehow allow him to wear the uniform without absolutely crushing his wings. In the end he had grimaced as he spelled two large ovals to cut themselves out of the backs of all Harry's upper body garments. With a bit of awkward maneuvering, the teen successfully got his flame-colored appendages to fit through the holes and rest easy along his back. Clasping on the traditional black hooded school robe, Harry nodded in approval as he viewed himself over in front of the mirror in the dorm bathroom. The robe hid the wings and the wings weren't squished by the uniform. If anything, it was just a little warm for his liking.

Harry chatted amiably with the Magical Creatures professor as the two made their way to the platform. Harry was ready to see his friends again after the long break, and was confident he could hide his wings with his new cloaks and keep his eyes in check with the spell. In no time at all the duo had reached the area where the train tracks met with the wooden waiting platform. The train was a few miles off, Harry guessed, as he could hear it but it hadn't come in view yet. A grin began to spread across the raven-haired wizard's face as he waited for train to come in, dock, and release its passengers.

He spotted the burnt orange of Ron's hair first among his friends. Ron never liked to wait to get off, always too eager to get to the beginning of the year feast. Harry remembered that Ron and Hermione had been made Prefects this year; Ron should still be inside helping organize the chaos of the train. Regardless, Harry weaved through the crowd of underclass students to reach his best friend, tucking his wings in closer to himself to avoid any accidental contact.

"Ron!" Harry called out once he was only a few feet away from his friend.

Said Weasley quickly turned to face the direction of Harry's voice. "Harry!" The two clasped hands and exchanged brief words with each other before an angry Hermione interrupted them.

"Ron, you're supposed to be – oh, Harry!" The brunette threw her arms around Harry's neck in greeting. The raven-haired wizard gingerly returned the gesture, hoping his friend wouldn't feel anything unusual on his back. Apparently not, for she pulled back and gave him a quick smile before she went back to scolding the ginger sixth year next to them.

"You have prefect duties to attend to! C'mon!" Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and hauled him back onto the train. Ron made a 'pity me' face to Harry as he was unceremoniously dragged away.

"I'll see you guys at the feast!" Harry called to the retreating backs of his two friends.

* * *

Draco sat silently in one of the corner booths in the prefect compartment, sneering at unfortunate first years who happened to walk past the compartment and glance in. He had been in an interesting mood since embarking on the journey to Hogwarts. In past years, Draco had neither liked nor disliked the voyage to the magical school, merely regarding it as a necessary evil that six other grades had to accompany him on as well. This year, well, this year he felt strange. The feeling of his mate, as he had dubbed it, had not gone away since that night. He had gotten used to the strange feeling of his stomach trying to dance in his body cavity, and had been able to ignore it for the most part. Now, the feeling was growing stronger. It was almost relatable to nerves, and maybe in some way the situation was sort of similar. Once he found his mate, he would have to woo her and sway her into accepting her role as his eternal soul mate.

Draco's heart warmed just a little at the thought of having a loving mate at his side for the rest of his life. One night stands and the occasional girlfriend couldn't be the same as the life that awaited him. Still, he kept his expression cold and impassive, hiding the warmth and excitement building inside him from those around him. It wouldn't do to have others find out such things, even if his close friends already knew a new and improved Draco awaited them at the return of the school year.

At long last, the train arrived at the Hogwarts platform, and the platinum blond rose from his seat to begin his Prefect duties that really should have been started a half hour ago. The _feeling_ had further intensified, and Draco was rather annoyed with it all at this point. He had things to attend to, and thinking about his would-be mate was distracting. On the other hand, the increasing _feeling_ as he neared Hogwarts could only mean that his mate also resided there. This made things significantly easier. Draco would use his spare time to quite literally hunt for his mate. He would find her; no Malfoy had ever failed at this task.


	7. Combine in the Night

**Ascension of the Wings**

Rated **M** for for language and sexual themes.

Set after OotP

Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.

I don't own Harry Potter, just this plot.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Combine in the Night**

* * *

 _I want to get out of here,_ Harry thought desperately, trying to look calm and happy like the rest of his sixth year friends. His wings itched underneath the layers of clothing he wore. All around him there seemed so much noise, too much color, motion and movement everywhere. Harry felt like he was having a panic attack. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

 _You're supposed to be excited all of your friends are back from summer break. You're away from the Dursley's, Voldemort hasn't killed you yet, and you go to a magic school. This will be ok._ Harry let out his breath and opened his eyes. Hermione was looking at him, a worry line creased on her forehead, but she said nothing as Harry pushed another forkful of food into his mouth.

Harry still felt uneasy throughout the rest of the Feast. Something felt very off…but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. During the sorting, Harry mindlessly clapped for all the newcomers, but didn't see or hear a word of it. His mind was elsewhere, trying to think, trying to understand, trying not to _feel_ the strange sensation consuming him. While Dumbledore gave the usual Forbidden Forest speech, Harry's mind was still adrift in the swirling mess of his conscious. His senses were on overload. It was too much.

 _I_ need _to get out of here._

As soon was as socially acceptable, Harry left the Great Hall. He bolted up the staircases, jumping effortlessly from transitioning sections and taking shortcuts until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry swore. All the passwords to all the common rooms had been changed once the feast had started, and Harry wasn't a prefect; he had no idea what the magic phrase could be.

Instead of going back to the Great Hall to ask Ron or Hermione what the password might be, Harry began to race back up the staircases. That sense of some foreboding event still crept up on him like a dark wave in the ocean in the middle of the night. No matter how fast he ran, Harry could not escape the feeling. Within minutes, Harry had reached the Astronomy tower, a feat which would have taken a normal wizard about three times as long. A sliver of the new waxing moon hung low in the night sky. No stars had yet appeared; the night was cool and dark. Harry walked over to the railing and grasped it with both hands, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath of the night air.

Undoing the clasp on his cloak with one hand, Harry let the thick black fabric fall to the ground without ceremony. His wings stretched out automatically, the feathery ends brushing against the wooden posts that held the Astronomy roof up. Harry opened his eyes - unbeknownst to him their color had shifted back to the amber of his inheritance.

Something seemed to be calling to him, yet there was no audible voice that he could hear. It was like an instinct, an urge; there was somewhere he needed to be and something he needed to be doing. Retracting his wings back, Harry pulled his shirt and sweater over his head and tossed them into the corner of the tower. He'd come get them later.

Harry refocused his gaze back outside, his fiery irises scanning the night for anything unusual, anything that would explain this overwhelming feeling. Seeing nothing, The Boy Who Lived climbed up on top of the railing and launched himself over, his wings unfolding gracefully.

* * *

"Something's wrong with Harry," Hermione muttered to Ron over dessert. "He normally loves the beginning of the year feast. His training with Dumbledore must have been more difficult than he was letting on."

Ron sensed Hermione looking at him pointedly, and the ginger put down his spoon of pudding. He smiled at the brunette girl reassuringly. "You know what, I'm sure he's fine, 'Mione. But I'll go check on him, just to be sure."

"Thank you, Ronald."

The orange-haired Prefect climbed the staircases to the Gryffindor common room steadily, his mind wandering to the Quidditch tryouts that would be taking place soon. He stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Butterbeers for all!" He chimed.

"Indeed," the Fat Lady nodded, and the portrait swung open. Harry wasn't in the common room, but Ron just shrugged and made his way over to the sixth year dorms. "Harry?" he called out, walking in. Their trunks were all at the foot of their beds, but Harry was still nowhere to be seen. On impulse, Ron walked over to the nearest window and looked out. Then he suddenly gasped, his eyes wide. He took a step back but his eyes were still glued to the happenings outside. Two large, winged creatures could be seen at the borders of the grounds, one with magnificent fire-colored feathers and the other with midnight black wings. They seem to be grappling with one another, but they were too far away for Ron to be able to tell. Another moment passed and Ron finally tore his eyes away from the scene. He had to go get Hermione.

* * *

Draco slumped in his seat at the Slytherin table, elbow on the table as his hand propped up his head. He was bored of the festivities, and tired of the stirring in his stomach yearning for his mate. It was getting quite bothersome by now. He could barely concentrate on the incoming first-years that had gotten placed into Slytherin during the Sorting ceremony. Draco sighed, pushing around the food on his plate.

"What's got you all bothered?" Blaise Zambini said in a hushed tone.

"Nothing," Draco snarled, growing more and more irritable by the second. "I just need some fresh air, that's all." He pushed his food away and stood up from the table.

"Draco-," Blaise called, but the billowing robes of the young Malfoy had already left.

The platinum blond stalked the halls of the school, no real goal in mind for where he was wandering. His inheritance roiled within him, searching, churning, anxious. Without meaning to, the scales began to surface on his skin, a delicate accent patterning the sides of his arms and the top of his hands. He could feel the scales spiraling up his legs as well, appearing in their mystical sea-foam green color. Draco growled. Where was his control? He never let this happen without his explicit consent.

Draco began to race along the corridors in earnest now, desperate to be out of view should anyone see him emerge in his form.

 _The Astronomy tower. I can get away there._

With a goal in mind, the young Malfoy sprinted up the staircases at an inhuman speed, arriving at the tower not even out of breath. Something drew him to the edge, and the round pupils of the Slytherin sixth year sharpened to slits as he caught sight of a phoenix flying out over the grounds. His sharpened eyesight couldn't see the avian in perfect detail, but he could tell that it wasn't Fawkes. As he watched the brightly hued creature soar and dip in the night sky, Draco could feel his wings coming out. And he let them.

Gradually the sleek black wings melted out of Draco's skin, lengthening and forming feathers as soon as they touched the night air. The teen's silvery eyes continued to stare out into the night as his nails grew and sharpened into claws, and the scales appeared up his neck and out onto his jawline. The barely-there light of the moon glinted off the scales, and Draco spread his wings to their full extent. His mind went blank and instinct took over at that point.

Draco threw himself into the sky, wings beating the air with powerful motion as he slowly flew towards the other being. He didn't know exactly why he was flying so slow, only that it was necessary.

Then his mouth opened, and the Siren Song began tumbling from his lips.

 _Now let the day_

 _Just slip away_

 _So the dark night may watch over you_

 _Velvet blue_

 _Silent true_

 _It embraces your heart and your soul_

The melody was a haunting one, a truly eerie yet utterly captivating series of notes that was inescapable once heard. Soon, soon the phoenix would be in earshot, and it would come to Draco.

 _Never cry_

 _Never sigh_

 _You don't have to wonder why_

 _Always be_

 _Always see_

 _Come and dream the night with me_

The head of the phoenix turned toward the rumbling tune, and it began to slowly circle closer to the Siren. Draco's heart thumped in anticipation. _What a beautiful being,_ he purred to himself.

 _Have no fear_

 _When the night draws near_

 _And fills you with dreams and desires_

The phoenix was close enough now that Draco could see it was a hybrid, much like himself. Draco's disgust at seeing it was another male was quickly washed away when he saw the eyes, the brilliant, vibrant, amber eyes staring at him.

 _Like a child asleep_

 _So warm, so deep_

 _You will find me there waiting for you_

Something seemed so familiar about him, but Draco's rational thinking was too far gone to ponder that thought. All he knew was that this hybrid was utterly entranced, flying straight towards him now. Draco would have him.

 _We will fly_

 _Claim the sky_

 _We don't have to wonder why_

The siren stopped and just hovered mid-air, opening his arms for the other to fly into. His silvery eyes flashed with lust as the other neared. Twenty feet, fifteen feet…

 _Always be_

 _Always see_

 _Come and dream the night with me_

Draco embraced the phoenix and buried his head into the other's neck, whispering the last few lines of the song into his skin. He was warm, so warm, and the vivid fire-colored wings beat in tandem with Draco's own. The siren peered into those eyes, satisfied to see them dull and uncomprehending. He would stay under the song's affects until Draco had had his wicked way with him. Smiling, the blond pressed his lips against the phoenix's own, his inheritance soothed when the boy wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and responded to the kiss. Draco wrapped an arm around the hybrid's back, stilling his wings so Draco could better maneuver. He had more than enough strength to keep them both aloft.

Far away, Ron gasped at the window.

Draco slowly brought them back down to the ground. He could perform in the air, but he wanted to savor this beautiful creature. He laid the boy on the soft grass just on the outskirts of the forest and marveled at his physique. Short but still muscular, and absolutely stunning with his wings stretched out on either side of him. Draco quickly undid both of their trousers and removed his own sweater, the hybrid giving no protest. He wouldn't, not under the song.

The phoenix's eyes did, however, widen upon seeing the intricate scales winding Draco's body. He sat up and traced their pattern, over Draco's chest and winding towards his navel, a line over his forearms and the miniscule sparkle over his cheekbones. Draco sat back and let him touch, surprisingly content to be worshipped like so. Finally the hybrid was done, and sat looking up at the Siren with those orange eyes, waiting. It was somewhat unnerving because those under the song didn't speak, but that didn't mean they couldn't make other sounds.

Draco kissed the phoenix again, plunging his tongue in without warning to explore the hot cavern of the boy's mouth. He moaned, and Draco took hold of the hybrid's erection, pumping it as he continued to kiss him. His own member throbbed, as it had been since the phoenix flew to his arms. He ignored himself for now, concentrating on the capture before him.

The blond broke away from the kiss and the boy whimpered from the loss. Grinning, the blond placed two fingers in front of the other's mouth and instructed, "Suck."

Without any hesitation the boy did so, eagerly wetting the slender fingers as Draco continued to stroke him. Draco's wings quivered with excitement as he withdrew both hands and flipped the boy onto his hands and knees, wasting no time in inserting the first finger. The phoenix squirmed with discomfort, but Draco slapped one of his arse cheeks and thrust the finger in deeper, making the boy moan. Draco's cock was leaking looking at the sight before him, the expanse of tanned skin and Draco's finger going in and out. He hastily added the second finger and the phoenix sucked in a breath, trying to accommodate to the new addition. Draco stretched and teased him, the fire-colored wings hanging off the boy's back and brushing on the ground.

Finally, Draco could take it no longer. He lined himself up with the entrance to the hybrid, pausing when the boy turned his head and looked over his shoulder to see what Draco was doing. The blond swallowed and his brows knit together, but he tore his gaze away from those clouded amber irises to push the head of his cock in.

The boy positively mewled at that first contact, pain and pleasure lacing his sounds. Draco concentrated on going in slow and steady. It was obvious the boy was a virgin, but Draco thought he should be grateful his first time was with a creature such as himself. So the siren pushed the rest of the way in, wincing at how tight and dry the phoenix was. He would make this quick then. He was a great and powerful Siren, but he didn't relish in pain, only pleasure.

Draco began a moderate pace, reaching underneath the hybrid to stoke his cock in time with his thrusts. The phoenix said not a word, of course, but he continued to either moan or mewl as Draco fucked him.

Draco came in record time, which really wasn't surprising given the circumstances. The phoenix had been too hot, too tight, too breathtaking to leave Draco in suspense for very long. Being a respectable Malfoy, Draco milked his capture to completion as well, relishing in the filthy sounds the boy emitted. Draco watched as the film covering those bright irises faded, and the boy sank to the ground, dead asleep.

He did up both of their pants before picking the hybrid up in his arms bridal style. He couldn't leave him for the magical beasts of the forests, he was far too beautiful for that.

In the end Draco laid the phoenix on one of Madame Pomphrey's hospital beds, chuckling at the sight of the ravished boy.

"Such a shame you'll remember nothing of this night," Draco whispered.

* * *

Song is Nocturne by Secret Garden


End file.
